Something like relief filled the lines of his frown as Daimon put an arm around Wanda's waist and helped her up to her feet. "We're in your head," he informed her, once again glancing around at the ghostly devastation. He turned back to her, his resolve strengthened by her will's restoration. "Asmodeus, Mephisto's minion, has you trapped. To force the demon out, you have to fight it." Still holding on to her, Daimon took a careful step forward to get a read on the creature's location.
"He's injured, considerably weakened, though still powerful. But you can beat him. You're much stronger than he is." Without another word, Daimon led her through this decrepit memory, followed Asmodeus' foul and wretched aura. Once Hellstorm found where it led to--a forest, tall dark pinnacles aligning the black horizon--he teleported them to the skirt of the sinister grove. The sulphuric stink of Asmodeus' essence put a scowl on Daimon's face. The monster was near.